I wouldn't normally start with a poem, but I wanted to quote Bukowski simply because too few people -- poets or otherwise -- seem willing to out the lives that most people live as other than dull, boring and safe.

Of course, I don't know them...all.

But I know a few.

And I know my life!

Jeez!

I don't mean to suggest we should live the exact opposite, i.e. risk life and limb for the hell of it, but questioning 'safe' should be part of the heuristic.

Also, we might like to consider:

(a) what we're capable of;

(b) our own truth, not what we've been told and accepted by all those well-meaning folks;

(c) why we feel ill at ease in creating a ruckus;

(d) why, even with all this technology, we don't see the extraordinary beauty in the oh-so-ordinary;

(e) why we question so little; and

(f) why we do so little to disturb the status quo.

I'm sure I'm not the first to suggest we've gone to sleep but that's what it looks like. If we get our thrills and spills from anything, we seem to do so not just because we enjoy the experience but it's how we think deep down we should be living.

I suppose, in the end, how you choose to live your life is your business. But, seriously, given how precious and fleeting life is, is it worth another week of monotony just to get to the weekend when you can let it all hang out?